Saturday Mornings
by SlytherinScarlette
Summary: "KURT AND SEBASTIAN ARE BROTHER HUSBANDS TO BLAINE. MAKE IT SERIOUS." - This was the challenge issued to me. No idea how well this will go, but I'll certainly give it a try. Rated for safety in future chapters.
1. A Friendly Visit

**A/N: "Kurt and Sebastian are brother husbands to Blaine, and make it serious."**

**How to write something like this? In character? So absolutely non-canon? Talk about challenge! No idea how to approach it. But, here we are, we'll see how it goes. If it's horrible, blame Emily! Hahahahaha.**

**If you hate it, there's this little back button on your browser:)**

**This story is dedicated to Klitta and Kemily.**

* * *

><p>His voice was gentle and sweet, as usual. Lying with his head on Blaine's shoulder, he was tracing the edge of Blaine's collarbone with his index finger. Though the bed was large, they would have fit comfortably on a twin. With Blaine's difficult school schedule and Kurt's nonstop rehearsals, these moments were small luxuries, far and few between. And yet, just being there with Kurt erased the stresses of reality. It was as if they'd been lying there for weeks. No responsibilities, nothing demanding their attention... just each other.<p>

Saturday mornings were Blaine's absolute favorite.

"Mmm?" he responded quietly, grabbing Kurt's tracing hand in his own and kissing it lightly.

"What do you think about... you know, adoption?" asked Kurt nervously, and, after seeing the alarmed look on Blaine's face, quickly added, "I'm not opposed to surrogacy either, of course!"

Blaine almost laughed. "It's not the method, honey... I mean, we've only been married-"

"Two months, eight days, and eleven hours. Oh, and twenty-seven minutes."

This time, Blaine let out a small giggle. "And how many seconds?"

Kurt groaned. "I'm not saying tomorrow. But, you know, we could discuss it."

"Kurt, you know I want little Warblers as bad as you do, but with my school and your rehearsals, we just don't have the funds or the time to properly care for a child," answered Blaine honestly. Reality came crashing down as they sat in silence. The illusion of endless time together vanished. It had been an unspoken rule to avoid mentioning their busy lives on Saturday mornings, and Blaine had just unintentionally broken it.

He didn't blame Kurt. He'd had visions too, visions of taking his child to choir practice, teaching his child a first instrument. But now was not the time.

He'd crushed Kurt, though, and he knew it. In an effort to raise his spirits, Blaine broke the silence.

"So, what would you name our future child?"

Kurt's smile returned. "I don't know... maybe Abram... after-"

"Abe Burrows?" Blaine laughed. "Might as well just name him Tony."

"Well, with parents like us, he'll be destined for broadway victory!"

"Maybe we should opt for surrogacy, then, hmm? But we'll have to decide whose sperm has better singing genes."

There was a short-lived silence before the two collapsed into laughter.

Saturday mornings were the absolute best.

* * *

><p>"Do you think this is inappropriate to wear to a military academy graduation?" Kurt held up his most prized Brioni tux for Blaine's approval.<p>

"I'm not sure people really dress up for those things, Kurt..."

"Oh. Calvin Klein, then?"

Blaine laughed. "I'm pretty sure your usual dress will be more than enough compared to the rest."

"I just want to support Finn, you know?" Kurt sighed heavily and sat on the edge of the bed. He looked over at Blaine. "You sure you can't go?"

"You know I have exams Monday. But I really do wish I could be there for my brother-in-law."

"Can you at least pick me up at the airport?" asked Kurt.

"Well, of course! Who else?" exclaimed Blaine.

"And you'll show up in a black suit with a limo? Holding a white sign that says 'Kurt Hummel-Anderson'?"

"Honey, if it'll make you happy, I'll show up in your Brioni."

Kurt's smile lasted a few seconds before vanishing. "I'm going to miss you. I hate sleeping alone."

"It's only a few days. It'll be Monday night before you know it," assured Blaine, putting his arm around Kurt and pulling him close. "I love you. Don't wear a tuxedo."

"You see? This is why I need you!"

"So I can dress you in the mornings? Would you like orange or apple juice in your lunch box today, sweetie?"

Kurt punched Blaine playfully. "Apple. Minute Maid."

"The only acceptable answer. Now finish packing, we don't want you to miss your flight."

* * *

><p>Hugs at airport departure always seemed to last centuries, yet never felt long enough. Blaine broke free first, and nudged Kurt towards the security entrance.<p>

"Text me when you get there. Pass along my congratulations to Finn."

"Will do. I love you."

"I love you more. Now go! You're late!"

"Would it be so bad if I missed it?"

"GO!"

Kurt grinned at his beautiful husband before turning to the infinite line of business executives, families, and screaming children. He clutched his bag firmly as he watched Blaine blow him one last kiss before disappearing down the escalator. Though Blaine was not there to see it, Kurt caught it in the air and held it tightly.

* * *

><p>Blaine walked out of the classroom and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. He grinned as he saw Kurt's name light up the screen.<p>

"How was the ceremony?"

"How was the exam?"

"Decent. My favorite part was feeling my pocket vibrate consistently towards the end."

"Oh! Damn, I forgot about the time difference. I hope I didn't get you in trouble..."

Blaine laughed. "It's a class of three hundred. I was one of probably sixty vibrating pockets in the crowd. Now, how was the ceremony?"

"Beautiful. If Finn had that kind of muscle in high school, nobody would have dared touched me," said Kurt. "I will tell you all about it when you pick me up. You do remember-"

"Seven o'clock, terminal E, gate 29. I've got it tattooed to my eyelids. I'll be there," interrupted Blaine assuredly. "I love you."

"Love you, too."

Blaine hung up just as he reached his car. He threw his cell phone in the empty passenger's seat and smiled. In just five hours, Kurt would be there to catch it, just like before. The drive home was brighter than usual. He passed through the suburban neighborhoods, smiling as he watched mothers strap their daughters into car seats and fathers toss footballs with their sons. He had a family, now, too. And one day, he'd have a giggling two-year-old to strap into an undoubtedly Kurt-chosen designer car seat of his own.

He pulled into the driveway slowly, parked, and almost skipped up to the front door. He pulled out his key to unlock it when-

"You seem happy about something."

Blaine jumped back, dropping his keys to the floor. He gripped the side railing of the porch to steady himself, and caught his breath before facing the intruder.

"Se-Sebastian?"

"The one-and-only! How have you been, Anderson? Or... is it Anderson-Hummel, now?" Sebastian smiled, leaning his tall body against the kitchen window. His usual brown hair seemed longer than before, but perhaps it just hadn't been gelled up. A black bag was slung over his shoulder. He was wearing casual clothing, a gray shirt with dark-washed jeans. Blaine couldn't remember the last time he'd seen him without his black-and-red Warbler uniform. Or maybe he could, vaguely. He considered this for a moment before Sebastian broke the silence again.

"Are you going to invite me in? It's a bit chilly out."

"How did you find my house?" asked Blaine nervously.

"Now, now, is that any way to greet an old friend? I just came to see how you were doing, congratulate you on your marriage."

"R-Right. Sorry, I guess I was just... shocked to see you, is all. Come on in, I'll make coffee."

It felt wrong, inviting him in. Almost like a betrayal. But Sebastian meant very little to Blaine, so he suppressed the guilt temporarily. It wasn't right to leave him outside when he'd made the effort to come see him. A cup of coffee wouldn't hurt. He bent down to reach for his keys, carefully positioning himself so as not to present his ass to Sebastian.

"Nice place you've got here. I assume Kurt decorated," commented Sebastian as they entered, his tone unreadable. He eyed the Victorian-style wall decor with interest.

"Yeah, he's really got an eye for that sort of thing. Black? Sugar?"

"You don't remember my coffee order?"

"I'm sorry, no. It's been a while since I've seen you-"

"Three years to the day, actually," mused Sebastian, taking a seat at the kitchen table gracefully. "Your birthday, remember?"

"Vaguely," responded Blaine non-committally, pulling two coffee mugs out of the cabinet.

"Yeah, I suppose you wouldn't."

"I don't drink much anymore."

"Probably for the best. You might remember more."

"Uh... yeah. So, we've got Vanilla, Hazelnut, Almond..." offered Blaine, keeping his eyes glued to the coffee containers.

"I brought you something," said Sebastian. Blaine heard him rustle through his bag noisily. He turned around, becoming more uncomfortable with the situation by the minute. Sebastian handed him a small box, wrapped beautifully in a red satin ribbon.

"I don't think I should-"

"Please, Blaine. I came all the way here to give it to you."

"What... is it?"

"Just open it," encouraged Sebastian calmly, standing up and placing the box in Blaine's hands.

Blaine felt dirty as he unwrapped the ribbon. This wasn't right. He couldn't accept this. He opened the box slowly, and gasped as he dropped it, hearing the ring clink loudly on the floor.

"What are you DOING? I am in love with Kurt, we're married! I can't take this, you should really leave-"

Sebastian smiled as he bent over to pick up the ring, and unlike Blaine, was careful to position his backside in full view. "Happy anniversary, Blaine. I figured since I didn't get the chance to give you one three years ago-"

"What the HELL are you talking about? You really need to go. I have someplace to be today-"

"Of course, you wouldn't remember. You might want to take a seat. I'll get you some coffee."

Blaine didn't much like being told to sit down in his own kitchen, or to be offered his own coffee, but he was too taken aback to respond. He glanced at the clock. He needed to get to work, he had to go make Kurt his sign, he had to try on the black suit...

"Do you remember when your wonderful boyfriend forgot your twenty-first birthday?" asked Sebastian, filling the coffee maker with water.

"He didn't forget," answered Blaine defensively, feeling his nervousness wash away with anger. "His flight was delayed, there was too much snow-"

"Whatever. He wasn't there. Remember what the Warblers did for you?"

Blaine recalled the collection of red-and-black suits outside his front door three years prior. All graduated, some of them had out-grown their old suits, but they looked adorable regardless. He remembered noting the high black socks to compensate for the short-hemmed pants. They'd broken out into a beautiful jazz acapella version of "Happy Birthday", and handed him a card. He remembered his excitement when he opened it. Plane tickets.

"Of course you remember. It was a fun trip, wasn't it?"

No. It wasn't possible. He hadn't been THAT drunk. Had he?

"You were humbled and excited, at first. The city was beautifully lit. You weren't really a gambler, though, so we took you to classy bars. We bought you expensive liquor. Twelve drinks later, you were angry. A few more, you were livid. 'Why would Kurt go out of town so close to my birthday?' you kept whining. You kept drinking. And I made a promise to you."

No.

"I promised you that I would never do that to you. That I would NEVER leave you the way Kurt did. That even though Kurt was probably having a fantastic time checking out all of the sexy men in Europe, I was there with you. And I would always be there."

"I wouldn't have believed you for a second," grumbled Blaine, his voice shaky.

Sebastian returned to the table, placing a mug in front of Blaine. He reached for his black bag and pulled out a piece of paper. "Would you believe this?"

Blaine didn't want to see it. He didn't want to look at his signature on that stupid piece of paper. All he wanted was for Sebastian to get out of his perfect house so he could make the perfect sign for his perfect husband on what was supposed to be the perfect day.

* * *

><p>He stepped out of the revolving door gracefully. From his beautifully-styled hair to his meticulously-shined shoes, he was the epitome of perfection. His innocence seemed to hover around him like an aura. Blaine didn't deserve Kurt. But he would never give him up.<p>

"What, no suit?" asked Kurt jokingly, and smiled as he ran up to hug him. Blaine gripped his husband tightly, and tried to imagine Saturday mornings. If he could just hold on forever, he would never have to go back. They could stand right in the middle of this busy airport, never letting go.

Kurt released him and looked worriedly at Blaine's tear-stained face. "Baby... what's wrong?"

"There's... something I have to tell you, Kurt."

Saturday mornings would never be the same.


	2. Honesty

**A/N: The weather report calls for severe angst. Please bring an umbrella. **

**A/N update: I didn't think I'd have to explain, but I suppose I will. XD**

**1) This is obviously borderline crack. My friend gave me a completely ridiculous storyline to try to write seriously. I know the slushie incident happened a week ago, but I'm pretending it didn't. Because I'm pretty damn sure that this story wouldn't even be a possibility without disregarding that. AU. K?**

**2) The government doesn't catch all of the official marriages in different states. If you're caught, you could go to jail or be fined. If you don't file your joint partner on your tax returns, etc, it is possible (although only slightly) that something like this could go under the radar. Also, gay marriage isn't even legal in Nevada. So jump on me for that.**

***dusts off undusty hands* Now that that's cleared up, let's continue, shall we? Jebus!**

* * *

><p>For once, Blaine was thankful for the New York traffic.<p>

Each and every honk was a sign of the delayed arrival home. The angry drivers were almost calming to Blaine, who was having to dry his perspiring palms on the legs of his pants every few seconds. He knew he had to tell Kurt, but he couldn't figure out how.

He silently praised each and every vehicle entering the freeway. The tension inside the car was overwhelming. He could feel Kurt's frustration without even glancing to his right, and yet Kurt hadn't even heard the punch line to the scenario Blaine was sure had to be a joke.

"So, you invited him to stay with us," Kurt verified quietly, staring straight into the distance. Blaine wasn't even sure he'd seen him blink.

"He doesn't have anywhere else to go right now," lied Blaine, and he felt the pangs of guilt once again.

"He can't go home?"

"His... parents aren't exactly welcoming," continued Blaine. He knew it wasn't right. But he didn't feel like a car ride was the best atmosphere for a confession of this magnitude. He couldn't imagine explaining something to Kurt that he didn't even understand himself. His thoughts continued this way for the next thirty minutes of silence, trying to justify the words that were not coming out of this mouth.

Not yet, anyway.

"I don't like this," came Kurt's soft voice again, and Blaine felt his heart break. "You should have asked me first."

Blaine reached his sweaty palm over to catch Kurt's hand, but Kurt pulled it away diligently.

This was not going to be easy.

* * *

><p>"Welcome home, boys. I made dinner."<p>

Sebastian's charming voice only seemed to irritate Kurt further.

"I ate on the plane," mumbled Kurt, and with one last furious look at Sebastian, he disappeared into the bedroom.

"well, guess it's just us then!" said Sebastian cheerfully, and snatched Kurt's plate off the table a little too quickly. "I hope you like pasta!"

"Sebastian, I don't think-"

"Please, Blaine, I've been cooking since you left. I know you didn't eat lunch. You must be starving," encouraged Sebastian. "Here, I bought some nice wine..."

"I don't drink anymore," responded Blaine, wanting desperately to run after Kurt.

"Come on, it was pretty expensive-"

"Look, okay, I'll eat... but just water, please," said Blaine quickly, glancing at the hallway to the bedroom. Sebastian gave him a smirk and filled his wine glass with water. He pulled out a chair and motioned for Blaine to sit, but Blaine, noticing the freshly-cut roses and candles on the table, refused the notion and took the seat across the table. Sebastian glanced at Blaine curiously, but did not comment. He took his own seat and watched as Blaine took his first bite.

"Do you like it?"

"It's... fine," muttered Blaine. He was lying, of course. It was incredible. The creamy alfredo sauce tasted homemade, and it was perfectly balanced. He and Kurt hadn't been able to cook much with their conflicting schedules. He missed experimenting in the kitchen with Kurt, and made a mental note to continue this practice after Sebastian left. Trying not to encourage Sebastian further, he ignored his grumbling stomach and ate slowly, careful to chew each bite as if he'd just eaten a full meal before his arrival.

"You're right. It's a little garlic heavy," noted Sebastian, who was now working on his own plate. "The wine's great, though, really, you should have a sip." He leaned over and offered Blaine his own glass.

"I-"

"Come on, just a sip. It compliments the alfredo perfectly."

Blaine, who was determined to return to Kurt as fast as possible, took the wine glass. Sebastian smiled. "Go on."

Chardonnay. Pricey chardonnay. Sebastian was right. The light taste was quite pleasant when paired with the thick white sauce.

"Domaine Leflaive Meursault. I've been saving it for a special occasion," said Sebastian. Blaine reached to return the glass, but Sebastian waved it away. "No, you keep that. I'll grab a glass of my own."

* * *

><p>Kurt paced the bedroom, giving the clock an angry glare every so often. He couldn't place his finger on it, but the whole situation seemed odd. What was Sebastian playing at? Didn't he realize Blaine was married?<p>

After one last hopeful glance at the clock, he collapsed backward into the bed and stared at the ceiling. Perhaps this was nothing. Blaine hadn't said how long their guest would be staying, but maybe it wouldn't be too long. Kurt could handle a few weeks if it meant things were back to normal again.

Blaine.

How could he? How could he agree to let this asshole sleep under their roof? On the night of his return, no less? Maybe he liked Sebastian. Maybe, even, as much as Sebastian liked-

No.

Kurt brushed the thought from his mind, feeling slightly guilty. How could he think such horrible things about his husband? Blaine was just being caring; Sebastian had lost his house and come begging for a place to stay. Kurt knew Blaine to be one of the most selfless individuals on the planet. Of course he would help out an old friend in need. That was one of the things Kurt loved most about Blaine. He couldn't let himself forget that now.

Just a few weeks, and everything will be back to normal, thought Kurt. Exhausted from his flight, he curled under the blankets and closed his eyes.

* * *

><p>"So he actually... he actually... tipped the taxi driver with condoms?" exclaimed Blaine, wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes and draining his glass. "You're kidding!"<p>

"He didn't have any money. We didn't date much longer after that," added Sebastian, laughing with Blaine.

"How did you end it?"

"I told him I was married to another man," said Sebastian. The two stared at each other for a second, trying to contain their laughter. It only took a few seconds for them to burst into additional fits of giggles.

"I guess that's rightful grounds for divorce, then," slurred Blaine, "You cheated! I'll take those signed papers, now."

"Well hey now, you married another man," replied Sebastian, "and I'm still here."

Blaine's laughter ceased. He stared at the man across the table, and through the cloudiness of the wine, felt his guilt for Kurt return. This wasn't right. He needed to get up, to go return to his real husband. He didn't need to be here. Not with Sebastian. Not with wine. He stood up clumsily and reached for Sebastian's empty plate.

"No, hey, let me do that," insisted Sebastian, pulling the plate from Blaine. "You don't want all your nice china broken."

Blaine sat down again and watched as Sebastian returned the dishes to the sink. "Sebastian... why now?"

For a moment, he didn't speak. He rinsed the leftover sauce from the plates carefully before placing them into the dishwasher. Finally, he turned to face Blaine.

"Because I saw the marriage announcement. Because I shouldn't have waited. Because it's too late, and because I love you."

Blaine's heart sank. He knew he shouldn't feel guilty for the tall, manipulative, attractive man before him, but his heart was heavy, the wine was heavy, his stomach was heavy, and everything was too much.

"You... you can't... you're blackmailing me and you can't-"

"Would you have let me stay otherwise?"

"It doesn't matter, Sebastian! You can't... I can't... I just..."

"You haven't told him yet, have you?" asked Sebastian knowingly. "You just want this to all go away."

"Well... yeah," admitted Blaine, staring off into the hallway once again. "I love Kurt, Sebastian. He's my... he's my everything." The tears of guilt returned, welling up in his eyes and blurring his vision.

"And you are mine," replied Sebastian quietly. He followed Blaine's eyes to the hallway. "I love you, and I will fight for you. Our agreement still stands."

"One month, and you're gone?"

"I'm not going to pretend it doesn't hurt that you just said that," said Sebastian. "But yeah, if that's how you want to look at it."

* * *

><p>The sound of the shutting door was just enough to wake him up, but he kept his eyes open only long enough to read the telling numbers on the clock. He heard the clumsy footsteps of his husband enter the room, the quiet curse under his breath as he no doubt stubbed his toe, and the swishing sound of him changing into pajamas.<p>

Two hours.

He felt the sheets move as Blaine settled into bed. He smelled the wine on his breath.

Two hours.

Kurt considered his next course of action. If he waited until morning, he would probably get more coherent answers.

Two. Fucking. Hours.

Then again, if his husband was indeed drunk, he would probably get a more honest answer. Did he want to hear it? He formed the questions in his head. Why did it take you two hours to eat dinner with him? Why is he really staying with us? When is he leaving?

All of these might have been perfectly reasonable questions, but what came out was:

"Are you fucking him?"

If Kurt was surprised by his own confrontational tone, it was nothing compared to the alarmed gasp that escaped Blaine's lips.

"What?"

"You heard me."

Kurt couldn't bring himself to turn around. He allowed himself to open his eyes again, and watched the blinking clock with intensity.

"Kurt, baby, of course not! What are you-"

Kurt turned around, angry. He stared directly into his husband's eyes, glowing with the blinking reflection of those damned green digital numbers.

"You promised you were done."

"Done what? I would never-"

"Done drinking."

Blaine fell silent, his eyes wandering towards the green lit sheets between them. Kurt's did not move. He would stay awake forever if he had to. He was not speaking without Blaine's response. Blaine seemed to realize this after a few minutes. His eyes met Kurt's once again, but this time, they were wet with sadness.

"I didn't want to tell you like this," came the response, and Kurt felt his heart shatter. He chose this moment to look away from Blaine, and did not fight the tears that came to his eyes. "Not-"

"I apologize if this is an inconvenient time to admit your infidelity, Blaine. Next time I'll try not to confront you when you've been drinking all night with your little friend!" shouted Kurt, but he was barely able to finish his sentence; the sobs became too much, and he curled into a ball away from Blaine.

"No, no, Kurt, it's not like that," insisted Blaine, his voice quivering. "I wish... I honestly wish to God it was. It would be... so much easier..."

Kurt swung his head back around fiercely, meeting Blaine's eyes once more. "If you don't tell me what the fuck-"

And then it became too much. Blaine erupted into intense sobs, rendering his speech useless. Kurt watched his husband cry, unsure of what to do. His instincts were to grab him, to hold him, to tell him it would be okay, but he couldn't. The uncertainty was tugging at him, but the anger kept him away. He wasn't sure what could be worse than Blaine sleeping with Sebastian, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Finally, Blaine spoke.

"We're... we're married, Kurt."

"I know we are! Now tell me what-"

"No. S-Sebastian and I. We're... we're married."

"What... Blaine, how much did you have to dri-"

"Kurt!" interrupted Blaine, reaching out to grab his husband's shoulders. "I'm not fucking lying to you! Listen to me! I screwed up, I... I didn't even remember, and then-"

Kurt sat up, pushing Blaine's hands away. Maybe it was a mistake, confronting him in this state of mind. He was clearly delusional. "Listen, Blaine, I just want to know the truth... just tell me. Start from the beginning," he said calmly, trying to hold back all of his feelings. He needed to know. It was no longer a question. Something wasn't right.

Blaine inhaled heavily, holding onto his breath for several long seconds before he spoke again.

"I love you, Kurt. You have to understand that. You are my everything. I never meant for this to happen, and I swear to you I never... I never slept with him," he began softly, clenching his fists.

"On my twenty first birthday, when your plane got delayed? The Warblers took me to... to Vegas. I don't remember much from the trip. I... had a lot to drink."

Kurt felt the fear replace his anger. There was no way.

"I woke up in my hotel room, I was late for my flight. I remember leaving, I felt awful. I was frustrated that I was late, and I felt like shit, and I just... I just left. I didn't say bye to anyone. I didn't think much of it. I honestly had completely forgotten about it until... until I came home this afternoon to find Sebastian at my... at OUR... doorstep. And he had it, Kurt... he had the... the certificate..."

No.

It wasn't Blaine that Kurt most wanted to shout at; the temptation for the other target was much greater. He thrust the blankets off and stormed into the living room. Sebastian was sitting on the couch, staring at a photograph. When he noticed Kurt, he smiled.

"I was just looking through some of my old pictures. Want to see?"

Kurt wasn't sure how anyone could be so cruel. He snatched the photo out of Sebastian's hands. There they were. His beautiful, innocent boyfriend, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, embracing the devil himself. The sign above them was revolting. Kurt tore the picture in half and watched as "The Chapel-" and "-O' Love" fell to separate parts of the wooden floor.

"You took advantage of him! You horrible... you..." Kurt thought for a moment, but he wasn't sure there was a word to completely express how awful the man was. "Get the hell out of my house!"

Sebastian's smile returned. "Come on, Kurt... I don't think either of us want our husband in jail, do we?"

His usage of the word "our" might have merited a different response, but the last bit left Kurt too afraid to argue. "What are you talking about?"

"Polygamy is a crime in all fifty states, sweetheart. Care for some wine?"


	3. Too Much

The week had been hell. Kurt had refused to be in Sebastian's presence, and with Sebastian trying to claim almost all of Blaine's time, he had barely talked to his husband in five days. Sebastian cooked dinner for three every night, and Blaine wasn't sure what to make of this; he knew Sebastian was fully aware of Kurt's resistance to a pseudo-family dinner. Kurt's portions were always secured in a tuppwerware container in the refrigerator, but they were stacking up quickly. Blaine was learning to count the days in leftovers. Lobster Bisque marked the first night that Kurt didn't want to sleep in the same bed as Blaine. On Beef Wellington night, Blaine had finally convinced Kurt to come back to the bedroom, but Chicken Cordon Bleu was a particularly painful one; Blaine had tried to make love to Kurt, and Kurt had slapped him. Sensing the heightened tension between the two, an exceptionally vindictive Sebastian had repeated the dish last night. Blaine refused dinner, leaving three perfectly-portioned reminders in the refrigerator. Before going to bed, Blaine had trashed the lot; he hadn't even bothered to keep the containers.

Despite the brutal week, there was some small part of Blaine that imagined this Saturday would be equivalent to its predecessors.

And it was, for a moment.

Kurt was still sound asleep, his breathing barely audible. He was clutching a decorative pillow in his arms. He was perfect. Blaine tried to find it in himself to continue their routine. He wanted to kiss every inch of Kurt's face to wake him up, to trace the edges of his cheeks with his fingers, to cuddle close and inhale the scent of Kurt's expensive shampoo. Blaine did nothing of the sort, however, hoping to retain the illusion of happiness.

And then Kurt's eyes opened.

Blaine silently begged him to remember the day, to recall the peaceful Saturday Morning affairs. If the telepathy was successful, Kurt didn't show it; he sat up slowly, and walked to the vanity to fuss over his hair before leaving the room without so much as a glance Blaine's way.

_Good morning to you too, baby_, thought Blaine sadly, and cuddled up to the decorative pillow Kurt had tossed aside carelessly.

* * *

><p>Kurt was surprised to see Sebastian missing from his usual morning spot on the couch. He pondered his whereabouts momentarily before noticing something that made his jaw drop.<p>

On the mantle, next to the framed picture of himself and Blaine on their wedding day, sat a new frame.

Kurt wasn't sure how the picture could possibly get any more tacky, but the tape that held the ripped pieces together proved him wrong. He stormed up to the fireplace and snatched the Vegas memory off the mantle angrily. A few minutes passed as Kurt surveyed the picture, taking note of every little detail: Blaine's smile, a little too happy; Sebastian's strong hold on Blaine's delicate hands; the horribly dressed chaplain behind them with the balding head of dark hair; the teardrops that were now splashing onto the glass, blurring the union that he still couldn't believe existed...

He jumped at the sound of the front door opening, startled. Sebastian marched in, grocery bags in hand, and approached Kurt with a smile on his face.

"Sorry I left without telling you... I noticed we were out of tupperware containers this morning," said Sebastian cheerfully.

"Welcome back, Smythe," said Kurt quietly, nodding towards Sebastian. "I hope you enjoyed your morning walk."

"Drive, actually," responded Sebastian, and pulled a set of keys out of his pocket. "I took your car, I hope you don't mind. Google maps said the nearest grocery store was ten miles." He tossed the keys back Kurt's way, but Kurt didn't bother to catch them. He didn't even flinch as the keys hit the ground with the fierce sound of metal and dragged across the tile loudly.

"I see," said Kurt plainly. "I hope you remembered to fill up the tank."

"Yeah, I hear you don't do that much anymore-"

"That's none of your business," spat Kurt angrily.

"Well, it's nice to hear that my married husband isn't cheating on me, at least," came Sebastian's retort. He took a few steps closer to Kurt and crossed his arms delicately. He smiled at the picture frame in Kurt's hands. "I see you've discovered my shoddy handiwork. I probably have another, somewhere, but I like this one better. The way you ripped it up and I taped it back together... it's kind of poetic, don't you think?"

"Go to hell."

"I wonder how long it will be before Blaine starts getting sick of you ignoring him," mused Sebastian, "and needs somebody else to fulfill... all... of his needs..."

"Shut up."

"Somebody to cook for him, you know. Somebody to be there for him. Somebody to study with him. Somebody who won't be so busy all the time..."

"Sebastian... I swear to God..."

"Did I ever tell you about our wedding night, Kurt? It was really magica-AAAAAAAAAHHH FUCK!"

Kurt barely recalled throwing the picture frame at Sebastian, but he certainly hadn't meant to hit his eye. Despite the incredible amount of animosity Kurt held for the boy, something told him he should probably help, probably call an ambulance... but he couldn't bring himself to move. He stood, shocked at the scene... Sebastian was doubled over, holding his hands over his face tightly... tiny drops of blood were seeping through his fingers... it wasn't really happening, was it? Had he... had he hurt him? Badly?

"What's going on? What's... SEBASTIAN?" Blaine rushed to the floor by Sebastian's side, pulling him into his lap. He glanced from Sebastian's bleeding face to the picture frame that now sat face down a few feet away. "Kurt, baby... what did you do?"

The words stung, yes, but not as much as the sight of Blaine holding Sebastian close, staring at him worriedly. The guilt, the anger, and the jealousy were flooding through him in powerful conflict. Blaine might have said something about calling an ambulance, but Kurt could barely hear him.

It was too much. This was too much.

Unsure of what else to do, Kurt turned around and spotted his tossed car keys a few feet behind him. He gripped them tightly, took one last look at his disgustingly concerned husband, and left.

He wasn't sure where he was going, but he had to get away.

* * *

><p>Blaine looked up at the sound of the door slamming. "KURT? KURT! Where... what... shit!" He looked down at the hurt man in his arms. "Sebastian, hold on, okay? I'm just going to get the phone, alright?" He reached behind him and pulled a pillow off the couch, tucking it safely under Sebastian's head. He jumped up and rushed to the telephone. His hands were shaking, and it took him several seconds before he was able to accurately dial 9-1-1.<p>

"Please... yes... I have a man here who's hurt... I don't know what happened... no, he's been hit... I think it's his eye... my address? Right..."

Blaine recited his address as calmly as he could; his voice was incredibly shaky and almost inaudible. The questions over the phone were difficult. He wasn't sure what had happened. He didn't know how to tell his annoyingly calm lady how confusing the situation was, how his delicate, sweet Kurt had seriously injured his... whatever Sebastian was to him.

Finally, the questions ceased, and Blaine slammed the phone down. He grabbed a clean washcloth from the kitchen and returned to Sebastian's side. "It's going to be okay, an ambulance is on its way. Can you tell me what happened?"

Sebastian didn't say anything at first. He sat up with great effort and pulled his hands away from his face. Blaine gasped at the sight. There was too much blood to tell where the injury was actually located. "Do... do you really need me to explain?"

His voice was almost unrecognizable at first. It was missing the manipulative flair of Sebastian's usual tone, and instead sounded... hurt, weak...

"I'm... I'm sorry, I don't know what..."

Blaine wasn't sure what else to say. He didn't know how to apologize for Kurt. He wasn't even really sure what Kurt's intentions were. Sebastian held the washcloth against his eye, and the two sat in silence until it was broken by the loud sirens a few minutes later.

Blaine opened the front door just seconds before they approached it, stretcher in tow. He ushered them in, pointing to the floor beside the couch where Sebastian sat, his washcloth stained a deep crimson. He watched as they helped him onto the stretcher, tossing the non-sterile washcloth aside and replacing it with a clean hospital towel. They wheeled him out quickly, and Blaine followed them outside.

"Can I... can I come?"

The taller of the medics turned around to face Blaine. "Family only. Are you related?"

Blaine swallowed deeply before answering. He felt his voice quiver.

"I'm... his husband."


End file.
